


Spike/Buffy Drabbles

by dreamsofspike



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9628094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/pseuds/dreamsofspike
Summary: A collection of my drabbles for the pairing Spike/Buffy from BtVS.Warnings: violence, dub-con/non-con, relationship abuse, character death





	1. Die Trying

"Buffy... wait!"  
  
"Don't _touch_ me!"   
  
She snarls, responding to his grip on her arm with a powerful backhand blow that sends him staggering backward across the stone floor of his crypt. She's gone before he can right himself, vanished into the night like she does every time.  
  
He raises a hand to gingerly touch his cheek, and the rising knot he feels where she struck him -- just one more bruise, one more pain to add to the collection he's been building for his entire existence.  
  
He has to admit, however, he's added more to his collection in the past few months than in the rest of his lifetime.  
  
If he can help her, though... if he can give her what she needs and somehow find a way to bring her back to life... then it will all be worth it.  
  
She doesn't believe it, but he _loves_ her -- and he'll do everything in his power to save her, even if it's from herself this time.  
  
He failed her before. He won't fail her again.  
  
This time, he'll save her -- or he'll die trying.  
  
Even if it means dying at her hand.


	2. Imagine You Here

She stands on the edge of the chasm, looking down, remembering the last time she saw him. It was only minutes ago, but it feels like another lifetime -- because he's gone.  
  
She still can't quite believe it, keeps repeating it in her mind trying to make it true... but it doesn't feel true.  
  
 _He's gone... he's really gone..._  
  
She thinks back to that night they spent in the basement -- the moment when she realized what has come to pass now -- that they were going to win.  
  
 _I was in your arms, and I felt safe, and sure, and I just_ knew... _we were going to win this. I could do anything as long as you were with me._  
  
I pictured it... almost like this... but not quite...  
  
Because... you were here with me...  
  
Her smile fades, as she stares out over the crater... and remembers.


	3. Are You Real?

"This isn't possible... I watched you die..."  
  
"And yet, here I am."  
  
"Don't... If this is a... a trick, or... or a dream... I couldn't stand it when it's over..."  
  
"..."  
  
"Are... are you _real_?"  
  
"..."  
  
"Spike... please..."  
  
"I'm real to you."  
  
"That's not an answer."  
  
"Red... thought you needed closure. Thought you might have some things you... never got to say. I might not be _really_ real, but... but I'm bloody well _here_ , right now, and... and I think that might be what you need, love."  
  
"..."  
  
"Shh, don't cry, pet. You're all right. I've got you."  
  
"I... I can _feel_ you... how can you not be real?"  
  
"You need me, love. You need to... to let this all out. No one else will hear what you tell me... not even Red. No one else can see us. It's just us... for as long as you need..."


	4. Ashamed

She's ashamed of him.  
  
He's known it from the start -- those early morning moments when she shattered his high hopes with threats and demands that he keep what had happened between them a secret, on pain of a second death.  
  
She comes to him and gives her body to him fully, submitting to whatever he wants to do to her -- or doing things to him that she'd never admit to wanting, to anyone else. In the dark solitude of his crypt, Buffy feels powerful and glorious and loses her cares in pure pleasure.  
  
And as soon as it's over... she hates herself for being with him.  
  
She's disgusted with him for what he is, and disgusted with herself for using him anyway. She's ashamed of allowing herself to touch him.  
  
And he's ashamed of the gratitude he feels for those brief, meaningless touches.  
  
The shame doesn't matter. As long as she's giving -- he'll shamelessly take whatever he can get.


	5. If I'd Met You First

Sometimes he wonders if things might be different if he'd met her first.  
  
If for whatever reason he'd come to Sunnydale before Angel, and somehow become the Slayer's first experience with a vampire -- would it be possible that she would see him differently? Would she see the potential for good in him, without a soul, if she'd never even heard of the vampire _with_ a soul?  
  
He'll never know.  
  
He'll constantly live in the shadow of her comparisons to her first love -- wondering and wishing that that first love might have been him.


	6. Closer

All he did was hold her.  
  
They're both exhausted, weak and battle-worn, and too scarred by past encounters with each other to attempt anything more than a quiet, gentle embrace in each other's arms. He wouldn't dare venture to make an advance, and she's not quite sure that she wants to yet -- not completely.  
  
She's not sure she ever will feel safe enough to try for anything more with Spike again, after all the pain that's passed between them -- and she's not sure which of them she holds more responsible for that sad fact.  
  
She just wants him to hold her close and make her feel safe and loved in a world that's suddenly gone mad all around her. She can't depend on her family or her friends, or even her calling, anymore.   
  
The one who once hurt her worse than any other is the only one she can trust.  
  
In those quiet, simple moments in the middle of the night, with no words, and only sweet, innocent contact between them -- Buffy realizes with wonder that she feels closer to Spike than she's ever felt to anyone.


	7. Do As You're Told

The stone door of his crypt slammed open with a terrific crash, and Spike cringed slightly, his mouth twisting into an expression of annoyance as he rose from his chair and turned to face the approaching Slayer maelstrom.  
  
"I already told you all I know, Slayer. Haven't you found the little bint yet? Because if you haven't, I can't help you..."  
  
Buffy waved a dismissive hand as she shook her head. "No, no, that's not it. Dawn's safe at home, no thanks to you. If I'd been even a second later, she'd have been dead, so..."  
  
"So maybe you shouldn't have taken the extra time to give me that thoroughly unwarranted pop in the nose, yeah?" Spike countered with a smirk. "Might have cost your little sis her soddin' _life_ , just so you could get your jollies knocking me around..."  
  
A breathtaking backhand across his face rocked him back against the wall as it silenced his protests. He looked up at her in indignation, wiping blood from his lip with the back of one hand, as Buffy slowly closed the distance between them.  
  
"No one's life's in danger _now_ ," she observed, in a tone of chilling calm.  
  
"Now, wait a minute, Slayer. I haven't done anything. You can't just invade a bloke's bloody _home_ and attack him without provocation..."  
  
Buffy let out a low, dark laugh as she reached him, gripping his throat with one hand and slamming him back against the wall. He flinched, bracing himself for a blow as she leaned in close with a cold smile.  
  
"Oh, trust me, Spike. I've had _plenty_ of provocation."  
  
Another blow knocked his head into the wall behind him with blinding force, and Buffy released him to allow him to slump down the wall to the floor at her feet.  
  
"You're supposed to be one of the good guys!"   
  
Spike reminded her, trying to hide the tremor in his voice that came with the realization that he was helpless. The chip in his head prevented him from defending himself -- and the Slayer seemed to be in a rather vicious mood at the moment.  
  
"I _am_ one of the good guys," Buffy insisted, a grim smile on her lips. "And good guys don't beat the crap out of their weak, human little sisters. So, as the nearest available evil, soulless thing -- you've just been elected to take her place. And what's more... you're going to keep your mouth shut about it."  
  
She punctuated her words with a brutal kick to the fallen vampire's stomach that left him coughing and choking, before dragging him up by the collar and slamming him into the wall again.  
  
"Like soddin' hell I am!" Spike objected, his voice trembling with mingled fear and outrage. "You've lost your bleedin' mind, Slayer! There is _no way_ that I'm going to..."  
  
She backhanded him again, a couple of times, before spinning around to throw him against a different wall several yards away. Spike struggled to recover, but couldn't regain his footing before she had reached him. She dragged him up again, pressing him between the wall and her body, and Spike's mouth went dry when he felt the familiar prick of a stake against his chest.  
  
"It's not that difficult to comprehend, Spike." Buffy's voice was soft and menacing. "It's really very simple. You're out of options. I can do whatever I want to do to you, and no one's going to stop me. So this is the way it's going to work: I tell you what to do, and you do it. That's it."   
  
She pressed the stake harder, and Spike winced, drawing in a sharp breath.  
  
"Do I make myself clear?"


	8. Dana

After Angel leaves, Spike feels pathetically morose, on the verge of emotional breakdown. Dana isn’t the only one with traumatic memories that have been dredged up by the events of the past few days. Of course, in his case, he was more often the villain than the victim – but that doesn’t make it any more pleasant to think about.  
  
Bloody soul…  
  
“I had to see it for myself, or I wouldn’t have believed it.”  
  
He looks up, startled, his stomach lurching at the sound of her voice. He stares with wide eyes as she slowly approaches the bed. His tone is wary, barely disguising a faint tremor of emotion as he addressed her with caution.  
  
“You know… hitting a bloke with no hands wouldn’t be exactly fair, Slayer.”  
  
“Neither is letting me grieve you when you’re alive – or nearly getting yourself killed when I don’t even know you’re back in the first place.” There are tears in her eyes as she sits down in the chair beside his hospital bed. “I… I don’t even know what to say to you. I want to… hit you, and yell at you, and…” Her voice softens, her lips forming a frustrated pout as she confessed, “… kiss you…”  
  
He gives her an apologetic look, blinking back his own tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispers – but before he can go on, she’s interrupted him, with four words that will change his entire future.  
  
“Come back with me.”


	9. Rain

He’s breathing hard, though he doesn’t have to, trying to fight off the overwhelming pain from the countless injuries he’s incurred. Rain mingled with blood pours over his skin, over the tattered leather of his coat. He sinks down onto the sidewalk, his head in his hands, grieving despite the nearly impossible victory they managed to achieve.  
  
They’re all gone. He couldn’t save them.  
  
He’s really and truly alone.  
  
The feeling of a soft hand on his shoulder draws his tear-filled eyes up with a wary start.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry I was too late.”  
  
In a moment like this, all the things they should say to each other seem meaningless. She sits down beside him, and he allows her to wrap her arms around him, returning her embrace with trembling hands, and drawing comfort from the familiarity of her touch.  
  
He was wrong. He’s not alone, after all.


	10. Cool Breeze

She doesn’t want to think – at least, not about the things that have been occupying her troubled thoughts these days. If she allowed herself to go there, she’s afraid she just might break under the overwhelming pressure of her own grief and confusion.  
  
It’s so much easier just to focus on the feeling of his hands as they run over her body with unexpected gentleness – like a cool breeze ghosting over her skin.  
  
She keeps her eyes closed, because she doesn’t want to see him – doesn’t want to remind herself of all the reasons why she shouldn’t be doing this.  
  
All she wants is just to lie back and _feel_.


	11. Make It Easy

Buffy and the Scoobies rush into the makeshift operating room – but it appears that they’re too late. The back of Spike’s head reveals a row of neat stitches, and he’s slowly advancing on the pale, anxious doctor that was intended to help _Riley_.  
  
Spike spins around when he hears them enter, a triumphant smirk on his lips.  
  
“Rules have changed, Slayer,” he announces. “I could kill you now.”  
  
Behind Spike’s back, the surgeon gives Buffy a pointed look, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if to disparage Spike’s words. Buffy doesn’t betray this new information in her expression, just gives him a cold smile – and allows her stake to roll from her hand to clatter on the floor at her feet.  
  
“Go ahead,” she challenges him softly. “Do it. I’ll make it easy for you.”  
  
“Um… Buffy?”   
  
Riley sounds uncertain, and he’s already reaching for his own weapon – but Buffy holds out a halting arm in front of him, her eyes never leaving Spike’s face. Spike’s features take on an exaggerated pout, and he lets out a put-upon sigh.  
  
“And that just ruins the fun, Slayer. You’ve got to at least _try_.”  
  
She ignores his goading, merely beckoning with both hands. “Come on,” she softly invites him.  
  
“Well… maybe there’s a _little_ fun left,” he admits, lunging for her without giving her time to prepare.   
  
She doesn’t need it.  
  
Before his fangs can touch her, he’s on the ground, moaning in agony as the chip fires once again. Furious at what he’s done, how near he came to costing Riley his life, as well as all the other troubles he’s caused her and hers over the past few weeks, Buffy lashes out in a brutal kick to his abdomen, a cold, taut smile on her lips as she glares down at him.  
  
“Now,” she grimly announces. “Time for _my_ fun.”


	12. New Life

He thinks he should call her.  
  
She’d want to know he’s here -- _alive_.  
  
It’s only fair.  
  
Somehow, he can’t bring himself to do it.  
  
It’s not that he doesn’t still love her. He does.  
  
It’s not that he doesn’t want to see her. Most days, she’s all he thinks about.  
  
He’s just not sure that he can go back there – back to all the pain and confusion and mixed up emotions that come along with loving a Slayer. They were on their way when he died in the Hellmouth, but he’s not sure if they could ever get past all the bad history that lies between them.  
  
He thinks he may be better off just starting over – starting a new life.


	13. In Trouble Now

"Okay. Out. _Now!_ "  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
"Uh-oh, Mommy's home... looks like we're in trouble now!"  
  
"Who do you think you are, you little skank whore? Get your hands _off_ my vampire!"  
  
"Buffy, love... give me a second to explain..."  
  
"I thought you said she was your _ex_! You dumped her because she was too clingy and possessive? Isn't that right?"  
  
"..."  
  
"..."  
  
"Now, Slayer... easy, now... that's not exactly what I said..."  
  
"Is it?"  
  
"Word for word."  
  
"Thanks. Now _get out_!"  
  
*throws a large piece of furniture across the room for emphasis*  
  
*trembling* "Okay! Gone!"  
  
" _Spike_..."  
  
"Buffy... love... calm down, now, yeah? No need to get so bloody worked up about it. You're the one who dumped _me_ , remember? I've got a right to date other women if I want to. Not that I... want to..."  
  
"But... but... you were telling her that _I_ was chasing _you_?"  
  
"Yeah. And you bloody well proved it to her, didn't you?"  
  
"Spike...!"  
  
"Easy, love. *pause* I'm not your... whatever I was to you... anymore. Means I'm going through hell right now, missing you... wanting you... but it also means... I get to take my soddin' pride back, yeah?"  
  
"..."  
  
"I'll date whatever silly bints I wanna date... and I'll tell 'em whatever the hell I wanna tell 'em."  
  
"... Spike?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What if I... made a mistake?"  
  
"... What?"  
  
"What if I... shouldn't have broken things off with you? I... I miss you, too, and... I just... can't help but wonder..."  
  
"... Come back when you're no longer wonderin', love. Come back... when you _know_."  
  
"..."  
  
"..."  
  
"So that's it, then. You're... putting me out?"  
  
"Yeah. I... I guess I am."  
  
"Oh. O-okay... Good night, Spike."  
  
"Good night, Buffy."


	14. Memory

She never really appreciated him while she had him.  
  
She hated herself for wanting him, hated him for being so thoroughly wantable -- and everything she knew she shouldn't want at all. She rejected him at every opportunity, hurt him more times than she could count -- and then, eventually... turned him away completely.  
  
And then... he was gone.  
  
In the midst of all the trauma and near-apocalypse of Willow's grief, she didn't have time to register her shock over Clem's explanation. Despite everything that had happened between them, she didn't expect that he would have left town -- and she found herself wishing that he hadn't.  
  
She didn't want him while he was there... or at least, didn't _want_ to want him.  
  
Now, she was left with just a memory -- and she wanted him back more than anything.


	15. Mind Control

She slams into his crypt, all righteous fury and indignation, and Spike looks up in alarm from where he lies on the sarcophagus -- the Buffybot beneath him. A moment later, he finds himself thrown into the wall with brutal force. Before he can recover, she's unceremoniously turned the Bot over, opened the cover on her back, and ripped out a handful of rather necessary-looking wires.  
  
She dumps the useless piece of machinery on the floor and storms across the room to where he is just managing to struggle to his feet.  
  
"You disgusting pig," she snarls, backhanding him and knocking his head into the wall. "You like the idea of having me helpless? At your mercy? Yours to command and do with what you will?"  
  
"No... no, that's not it..." Spike insists, his voice slightly slurred from the blows he's taken to the head. "Slayer... you don't understand..."  
  
"Shut up!"   
  
She snaps, slapping him again, then grabbing him by the throat and slamming him back against the wall, holding him in place with one hand while she reaches into her pocket. Spike flinches, prepared for a stake -- and utterly stunned and alarmed to see a hypodermic needle in her hand.  
  
"Hey! What are you going to do with that? Where did you even _get_..."  
  
She chokes him, silencing his questions with her hand around his throat, as she prepares the needle with her other hand. She gives him a cold, grim smile.  
  
"They told me you'd done this, but I didn't want to believe it. But -- I knew it had to be true. So... I'm going to teach you a lesson, Spike. I'm going to see how _you_ like being someone's helpless sex toy!"  
  
" _W-what?_ "   
  
Spike gasps for breath, eyes wide with shock and dismay as she plunges the needle into the side of his neck.  
  
"It's a potion. There's traces of my blood in it -- so enjoy it because it's as close as you'll ever get," she sneers. Her smile fades as she explains, "It will leave you with no choice but to obey any command I give you. You might not _want_ to, but you won't be able to help it."  
  
"Slayer... you can't do this..."  
  
Her voice is soft, her smile like steel, as she cuts him off.  
  
"Shut up, Spike."  
  
Instantly his mouth snaps shut, and his eyes go wide with panicked realization as he tries to speak, but can't even manage to open his mouth. Buffy lets him go, backing up, and Spike clutches at his throat, trying in vain to part his sealed lips.  
  
"Get on your knees," she orders softly.  
  
He unwillingly obeys. There's a trapped horror in his despairing eyes as he realizes how utterly at her mercy he is -- and it sends a thrill of power through her, and a sense of satisfaction as she glances toward the damaged, obscene toy that looks so much like her across the room.  
  
 _This is going to be fun..._


	16. Domestic Disturbance

He shouldn't have tried to stop her.  
  
That thought is vaguely present in the back of her mind, as she brings her fist down again and again into his bruised, damaged face. A part of her is horrified with what she's doing, aware of how utterly unforgivable it is that she should do this to him, as punishment for trying to _save_ her.  
  
And yet -- she can't bring herself to stop.  
  
 _He should have realized... I don't think I can be saved..._  
  
Her fist is covered with his blood and her own and aching from the intensity of the blows it's been delivering; and her face is streaked with tears. She's beside herself, pouring out all her rage and pain and disappointment -- pouring it all into Spike.  
  
Someone tries to pull her away, but she's beyond caring at this point. She carelessly tosses the interloper aside with a half-effort shake of her arm. She's vaguely aware of running footsteps and flashing lights, and slowly... too slowly... remembers that they're right outside a police station.  
  
For what must be the third or fourth time, the officer she tossed away commands in a trembling voice.  
  
"Ma'am, I'm warning you, _lie down on the ground_. I'll shoot you if I have to..."  
  
She's not so out of her mind as to not remember that, while the ordinary strength of a male police officer might not stop her, bullets are one of the things that will most definitely stop a Slayer.  
  
Spike raises his head as Buffy slowly backs off, her hands in the air. She's surprised he can move -- surprised he's conscious -- but filled with a guilty sense of relief to see that bruised, bloodied face looking up at her through eyes of blue.  
  
"What have we got?" By the authoritative tone, Buffy can tell that the approaching officer must be in charge.  
  
"Appears to be a domestic assault." The first officer sounds relieved to be handing it over to the second. "Careful. She threw me into that wall like it was nothing. I'm surprised the poor guy's still breathing."  
  
A perverse part of her wants to let them know that he's not -- or doesn't have to be. She wonders defensively what they'd think if they knew what he is, knew how many people he's killed over the years.  
  
Deep down, she knows it doesn't matter.  
  
Tonight, in their eyes, she sees the truth.  
  
She's the monster.


	17. Someone You Used to Love

" _Spike_?"  
  
He completely froze at the sound of the familiar voice behind him, stopping in the middle of his sentence. The pretty blonde -- complete with painfully ironic resemblance to the owner of that familiar voice -- blinked, frowning with concern.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
Spike nodded slowly, drawing in a deep breath before turning to face the woman behind him.  
  
"It... it _is_ really you." Buffy's voice trembled with emotion. "Spike... Andrew told me you were alive, but... but I couldn't really believe it... not without... seeing for myself..."  
  
"It's... good to see you, love."  
  
Spike smiled softly, taking a cautious step toward her -- then immediately side-stepping, reaching behind him to gently take the arm of the girl he'd been talking to and pull her forward.  
  
"Buffy... this is Alison. My... girlfriend."  
  
The word sounded strange even to his own ears, and he braced himself for her reaction, as he met Alison's eyes and introduced Buffy.  
  
"This is Buffy Summers. She was... we used to be... well..." He hesitated, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a shaky sigh before admitting honestly, "I used to be in love with her."  
  
Buffy stared down at their joined hands, a convulsive swallow visible in her throat before she looked up to meet Spike's eyes again, with a look of betrayal that Spike wasn't sure she deserved to be giving him.  
  
"Is that all I am to you now?" she asked softly. "Someone you _used_ to love?"  
  
Spike was quiet for a moment, and Alison was tactfully quiet, not quite meeting Buffy's eyes -- her casual hand in his the only overt declaration of her current claim over him.  
  
"Buffy, love... you'll always mean a lot to me. I loved you enough to die for you, you know that... and a few years ago... I actually tried to find you. If I'd have found you... who knows what might have happened, but... but I didn't. You'd... moved on. And now... so have I."


	18. Reunion

She's embraced by her first love before she's sure she's even fully materialized in Angel's office at Wolfram and Hart. Buffy, Dawn, Andrew, and Giles were all transported by magic directly into Angel's office in order to avoid detection by the other employees of the evil law firm, as only Angel's office is under the protection of the cloaking spell.  
  
No one can know about what Angel is planning.  
  
"Hey, Buffy," he murmurs into her ear, hugging her tight for a moment before releasing her. "I'm all for long hellos, but we've only got a few minutes before the spell breaks down."  
  
"Okay," she agrees readily.  
  
She's not quite sure how she feels about Angel anymore, so the briefer the awkward embrace, the better.  
  
"So what's the..."  
  
Her voice trails off, her thoughts going silent, as her eyes fall on the last person she would have expected to see in this room.   
  
Buffy might be struck silent... but Dawn is anything but.  
  
"Spike!" she shrieks, and Buffy can't tell whether it's a sound of elation or fury until the girl is across the room and nearly knocking Spike over with her embrace. "Oh, my God, _Spike_! You're here! And _alive_! Why are you...?" She shakes her head, giving up and concluding simply, "Well, why _are_ you?"  
  
"Uh... it's a long story, Bit. We don't have time for it now..."  
  
Spike is speaking to Dawn, his arms wrapped gently around her, but his eyes are locked onto Buffy. He looked trapped -- almost afraid -- as if he's certain that she'll be every bit as furious as she actually is with him for not telling her he was back.  
  
Buffy crosses the room to him with decisive, even steps, stopping in front of him with her arms crossed.  
  
"One question," she says in a dangerously soft voice. "How long?"  
  
He winces, and she already knows she's going to hate the answer. "Buffy..."  
  
" _How. Long?_ "  
  
"... Nearly a year."  
  
She slaps him without warning or explanation.  
  
None is needed.  
  
She nods once in grim acceptance. "That's all I needed to know." Without another word -- or giving him chance to explain -- she turns and crosses the room again.  
  
"Let's hear this plan of yours. I want to get back to Sunnydale as soon as possible."  
  
Spike stands there, trying not to smile at the image of his glorious, furious Slayer, still every bit as gorgeous and fiery as ever.   
  
He wouldn't have her any other way.  
  
He only hopes that there'll be time later -- once she's cooled down a little -- to explain.


	19. Ghosts

When they see each other again, it's almost like a dream. It hardly feels real. The last time she saw him, he was sacrificing his life for her and the others in the Hellmouth. The last time he saw her, he was certain he was saying goodbye to her for... well... the last time.  
  
It's a little awkward and a little surreal as they try to muddle through reintroductions and catching up with each other.   
  
He momentarily entertains the hope that they might pick up where they left off -- but he's sure she's moved on.  
  
She briefly wonders whether or not he believed her in the Hellmouth -- but it's too late to go back there.  
  
The people they are now don't even know each other -- and the people they were before are only ghosts.  
  
It's best if the past remains in the past, they decide, as they part ways on the most bittersweet of terms.


	20. Before She Was Chosen

She walks along the sidewalk, humming softly under her breath as she glances awkwardly behind her every now and then. It feels as if there's someone watching her, though any time she turns to look, there's no one there. She hurries her pace and rushes to make her way home. Her heart is racing when she goes through the door, and she leans against it, locking it with a trembling hand, relieved to be home where she knows it is safe.  
  
************************  
  
"But why not, love? Did you _see_ her? Usually you'd be all over a tasty morsel like that. What's the problem?"  
  
"She burns like sunlight, my Spike... she's poison... infection... you'd taste her... and then you'd never stop tasting her... you'd be ruined for me..."  
  
"She'd be _dead_ , love. You're not making sense. She's just a girl..."  
  
"She's more than that, my sweet. So much more..."  
  
"Whatever you say, Dru. She's gone now, anyway. Missed our chance. What say we go to the hospital and find the children's ward?"


	21. Anniversary

In hindsight, the day they first got together is not a day either of them wants to celebrate.   
  
There were several other meaningful days they shared throughout the first few years they knew each other, but each seemed tainted by the darkest of their memories.  
  
Several years passed after their reunion without their celebrating an anniversary -- but both wished that they had a special day to mark the time that passed between them.  
  
Eventually, they settled on the day when she had finally stopped lying to herself and to him and admitted that she loved him. He'd lied to her, told her he didn't believe her -- but he had, and the memory of that day had sustained him through the long months that had passed without her.   
  
As they celebrate together, with candlelight and flowers and wine, alone in the privacy of their Rome apartment, Buffy dances slowly in his arms, looking up at him with a love he never thought she'd feel for him.  
  
"Thank you," she whispers, gazing into his eyes. "For saying it... when I couldn't."


	22. First Meeting

"Do you remember the first time we met?"  
  
"Yeah, love. How could I forget it?"  
  
"It was at the Bronze..."  
  
"You were dancing..."  
  
*laughs* "Yeah. You always did call it that, didn't you?"  
  
"... Well... _most_ people tend to call dancing... _dancing_..."  
  
"Yes, but only _you_ call _fighting_ dancing."  
  
"Fighting?"  
  
"Wait... how do _you_ remember it?"  
  
"You were dancing with your friends. And... and it was the hottest soddin' thing I'd ever seen. The way you _moved_ , love... such... power, and... predatory grace... in every move..."  
  
*hushed* "Wow. You have a way of putting things that just... mmmm... Go on. Tell me more about this meeting of us that I don't remember..."


	23. Mutually Assured Destruction

He's always been drawn to the fire - to women who hurt him, who laugh in his face and put him in his place and leaving him crying, crawling back for more.   
  
There's a strange satisfaction in this one, though - this blonde Slayer who can cut him with her words or with her fists, but not before he's seen her flinch, not before he's seen that his own words hit their mark.   
  
He's long since accepted that if he loves them, they can hurt him; maybe the best he can hope for is mutually assured destruction.


End file.
